Reviews of Cuir Beluga

True luxury never shouts. Cuir Beluga is perhaps the smoothest, richest, and most refined vanilla-dominant fragrance I own. Wearing it makes you feel like you’re being rubbed down with a silk cloth by a butler. It is rather minimalistic for a Guerlain, and doesn't evolve much, but when something smells this good, I couldn't care less. At the opening, I get a brief flash of a mandarin-tinted liqueur – Grand Marnier perhaps – before we slip into a warm bath of silky vanilla, suede, and heliotrope, a sort of luxury-car-on-cruise-control gear where the perfume will stay for most of the ride.

This is a Guerlain vanilla that’s been through several filters. It is recognizably the Guerlain vanilla used in Shalimar, but here it’s been double-strained through a muslin cloth to remove all the impurities that give Shalimar its famous ‘burning tires and soiled nappies’ edge. The heliotrope gives up its faintly almond-like flavors to the putty-like cream, but it is like a paste of pulverized almonds rather than the full-on fudge of marzipan. The almond accents here are of the most pale and refined sort – unsweetened, and reminiscent only of the naturally milky, mild flavor of the nuts themselves. The texture is both buttery and powdery, like the inside of a white chamois leather glove that has been dusted with talcum powder so as to ease a lady’s hand in without any vulgar pushing. The suede is accented with a dusting of anise, which adds a faintly savory, almost salty-metallic feel to the fragrance. These salty, skin-like notes are what conjure up the feel of a true, fine ‘cuir’ here, and save it from being just another gluttonous gourmand scent. This is a fragrance that is drop-dead beautiful, and I get a lot of pleasure from wearing it. Inarguably over-priced, yes, but I can’t seem to find anything that comes close to it.

From beginning to end, this fragrance speaks of luxury. Like white suede chamois gloves or the soft white leather interior of a luxury car, it doesn't get any better than this.

Initially I get a very delicate, sparkling mandarin orange balanced by aldehydes. The soft, vanilla-heliotrope background is joined by the dry, honey-like texture of immortelle flower. Followed by Amber and more vanilla in the dry down.

This is a minimalist composition of only 15 ingredients, this is very different for a Guerlain fragrance (most of which are very rich and complex). I think that whilst this is minimalist, it speaks of quality all the way through.

A beautifully balanced, quiet, sweet and soft fragrance which really lets people know you have taste. In a class of its own, really.

Finally I have the privilege to test on skin this heavenly rare potion, one of the great luxurious leathers of the worldwide olfactory panorama and one of the holiest examples of the Guerlain's historical "Grandeur". Cuir Beluga is holy, "palatin" and aristocratic, the best quality of smooth immaculate (extremely polished) leather around which is in this case treated, depurated and gentled by a magic whiff of historical Guerlinade as it uses to perform "soaked" of indolent hesperides, starring eliotrope, nobiliar patchouli, star aldehydic dust, may be orris root and luxurious amber/vanilla in to an ideal mix combining all together the original Heritage, the new Shalimar Parfum Initial, Etro Heliotrope, a touch of Derby, a tad of Grossmith Phul-Nana, a whiff of the vintage Habit Rouge's (and Chanel Coco Mademoiselle's) final patchouli veined powder and the Chanel Cuir de Russie's sacre dry down. Probably secret hints of almond, rose, iris, musk, petitgrain and ylang-ylang take harmonically part to the swirling dusty/translucent liturgic ceremony. Yes, the leather is not hefty or animalic (you don't feel the tannery atmosphere) but almost shy and silky like the best quality of chamise. The luxurious powder is immensely complex, spicy, oily, leathery, incensey, floral, balmy and rooty-earthy and "shipwrecking is so sweet in all that sea". The leather unveils by soon its vaguely liquid/hesperidic/salty magic undertone, makes along the trip itself to be caressed and cuddled by all that classic white dusty Guerlinade standing finally out as the most velvety example of balmy-eliotropic suede ever inhaled. This fragrance is over the top.

This opens with a gorgeous creamy vanilla coupled with a leather suede note. Within this are hints of the citrus mandarin note and I must say this is lovely.

As time passes a amber note gives the vanilla that extra full body sweetness but never overwhelms. Also within this beautiful composition floral notes can be detected. Giving the fragrance a extra layer of complexity.

To sum up a exquisite enigmatic amber vanilla fragrance that has hidden facets of leather and florals just waiting to be explored.

I was surprised and delighted at once at how deeply Cuir Beluga satisfied my nose. Very rarely will I inhale a scent and know immediately that I’m going to love it. It happened with Dia, with Carnal Flower, and with Musc Ravageur, and now I can add Cuir Beluga to the list.

Cuir Beluga is the softest, smoothest, and most soothing leather I can remember smelling. It is in roughly the same comforting mold as Luntens’s Daim Blond, Armani’s Prive Cuir Amethyste, and Parfum d’Empire’s Cuir Ottoman, but I find Cuir Beluga more creamy and refined in structure than any of these. Most of the sweet, mild leathers that I’ve worn domesticate their inner animal with sweet fruit: dried apricot, plum, raspberry, or cherries. Cuir Beluga adopts a different strategy. It marries its buttery leather accord to an almost impossibly plush and voluptuous vanilla. (This is, after all, Guerlain!) Like so many strokes of genius, it appears obvious once accomplished, yet also so utterly “right” that it seems both inevitable and unassailable.

That the simple conceit works so well must be credited in part to Guerlain’s unparalleled treatment of vanilla. I’m not so sure that any other house could have pulled it off with such success. At any rate, the result is glorious, even if it is uncomplicated. The kind of poise and balance found in Cuir Beluga requires no extra adornment, and the scent’s construction represents what I think of as “classical” in the art of perfumery.

Wearing Cuir Beluga is like being gently wrapped in the most supple suede you can imagine. Myself, I prefer my leathers on the wild side - provocative or animalic brews like Knize Ten, Aoud Cuir d’Arabie, Eau d’Hermes, or Parfum d’Habit – but Cuir Beluga is a touchstone for that other, more civilized leather experience. I purchased a bottle on the assumption that it’s the only leather scent I could convince my wife to wear. ;-)

The opening is elegant, aerial and captivating, with a mellow, silky, sumptuous and super soft suede note sided with a subtle aromatic woods note, in a rich, dusty cloud of vanilla and talcum, blended with a floral-spicy heart (saffron, cumin?). If you inspire with more strength you detect a dry, dark far base, which may be the "below side" of suede, with anise notes and a bitter, crunchy, subtle herbal feel. Quite a deep scent, with a strong "dimensionality", rounded by a "Guerlinade" of aldehydic vanillin-orris. Also I agree with the references to Shalimar, this smells quite like a "futuristic" tribute. As minutes pass the green-suede accord emerges better, with a bittersweet, almost animalic feel dusted with a talcum-vanilla powder – unpredictable, but really elegant and quite sensual too, also because of a slight salty "skin" note. To sum up: a powdery suede-vanilla accord with spices and a slight metallic feel, developed in a translucent, aerial, deep, cozy richness, with a peculiar personality which i am not able to describe – just try it. Not a gourmand, though; it's all quite breezy and ethereal, don't expect any "thickness". Big promises which however, sadly, are then partially disappointed: in fact, after a while it just starts to "fall apart", many notes vanish one after another, like in a dream just before waking up, when "stuff" around you starts to disappear (actually it never happened to me as far as I remember, but in movies it happens often). And you end up with a generic, still nice but a bit "pointless" drydown of vanilla on a subtle metallic-suede base. Actually more than losing notes, it loses in depth and width. The drydown, however, lasts for ages and it's not bad. An interesting fragrance which for me, is worth a try. I tested the old version (darker juice), I am given to understand the more recent one is lighter and more delicate.